


All's Well That Ends Well

by kelios



Series: twitter prompts 2020 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Panties, Panty Kink, Prank Wars, Pre-Series, Underage - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios
Summary: Dean starts a prank and Sam finishes it.
Relationships: Dean Winchester - Relationship, Sam Winchester - Relationship, Wincest
Series: twitter prompts 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822414
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	All's Well That Ends Well

Dean watches with ill-concealed glee as Sam stumbles out of the bathroom, yawning. He's got a towel around his waist and nothing else, water dripping from the ends of his hair to run over a chest that Dean tries not to notice is filling out nicely. He focuses instead on the upcoming squawks of outrage that Sam will soon be providing, and wishing that he had one of those fancy phones with a camera. Sam drops to his knees to rummage through his bag for clean clothes, Dean's favorite bitchface rising through layers of sleep as he digs fruitlessly through the bag.

"Goddammit, where's all my underwear?" he mutters loud enough for Dean to hear. "Dean, did you--"

"Check the dirty pile," Dean suggests helpfully, biting his lip to keep from laughing, and also to keep himself in check as Sam unfolds, long legs and a glimpse of tanned thigh through the gap in the towel making Dean's mouth go dry. He's half hard but tries to ignore it, tries to convince himself it's just a natural response to how much he's going to enjoy Sam's outrage, but he knows better. Has for awhile. 

"There's none in here either," Sam says irritably.

"Huh," Dean grunts noncommitally, and Sam's head jerks up, eyes narrowing as he hones in on the amusement Dean's trying to hide. "Seems kinda careless to lose all your underwear, Sammy, but don't worry. I found these for you."

"I didn't--" Sam stops as Dean's words sink in. "Just give me a pair of yours," he says through gritted teeth. Sam hates going commando and Dean knows it--which is undoubtedly the reason behind this prank.

"No way, Sammy," Dean says solemnly. "Underwear is sacred." He grins slowly, victoriously. "But you can wear these."

Sam takes the offered paper bag warily, expecting to find too small tighty-whities picked up at the last Goodwill they hit or something similar. He sways slightly on his feet as he sees what's in the bag, half the blood in his body rushing to his face, the other half to his dick.

"Fuck you, Dean," Sam says tightly, unable to control the images flashing through his mind. "I'm not wearing panties." He throws the bag on the bed opposite Dean, angry and embarrassed by the unmistakable way his cock is filling behind the thin motel towel. 

"Guess it's commando then," Dean crows. He leans over and spills the bag across the bed, jewel toned scraps of silk and lace splashing across the dull bedspread like a rainbow waterfall. He sorts through them, picks out a pair of black satin and lace and tosses them at Sam, who catches them on instinct. “Come on, Sam,” he taunts. “I think you’ll look great in those.”

Sam stares at them, imagining for a quick moment what it would feel like before turning back to his duffle and digging out a pair of sweats. He pulls them on under the towel and flops down on the bed, reaching for the remote and biting back his own grin at Dean's puzzled silence.

"Sam, what are you doing? Get dressed, we gotta be at the university in an hour." Dean sounds confused, wary--of all the responses he'd hoped for, this was clearly not on the list.

"Not going anywhere," Sam says lightly, eyes never leaving Wheel of Fortune. "Not without my underwear."

"This isn't funny, Sam," Dean says. He's starting to sound angry, which Sam thinks serves him right. "You know Dad is counting on us to get this book."

Sam waves dismissively. "He'll get over it. He only wants it to trade for bullets anyway." 

"Sam, just put the damn panties on and let's go." There’s a tinge of panic in Dean’s voice now--he knows he can’t steal the book without Sam there to distract the professor. Sam might even feel bad for his brother if Dean hadn’t, you know, _stolen all his underwear_.

Sam looks over at Dean, enjoying the predicament Dean’s gotten himself into. Idly plays with the scrap of black silk Dean had tossed at him, privately thinking they would look amazing on Dean, enjoying the way a whole new kind of panic fills Dean’s eyes. When Sam looks down he can see his brother’s cock pushing out the front of his jeans and thinks _gotcha_. He’s suspected for awhile that Dean’s thoughts were at least as impure as his own, and now he’s about to find out for sure. 

“Sam--” Dean’s voice sounds as strangled as his dick no doubt is as Sam picks up another pair of panties, blue satin this time, and rubs the material between his fingers. Brings them to his face and inhales, eyes slipping closed. 

“Mmm,” Sam hums thoughtfully. “They feel nice. I bet they’d probably feel pretty good against my dick. So soft and silky against my balls…” He breathes deep again. “Clean too, so either you didn’t steal them or you washed them.” He sits up, one leg curled underneath him as he faces Dean. He’s smiling, but the look on Dean’s face says _prey_. “Were you thinking about how I’d look in these when you bought them, Dean?” he asks softly. “How pretty my dick would look all wrapped up in silk and lace, the way they'd frame my ass?" He picks up another pair. "Which color did you think would look best on me?"

Dean swallows, face flushed hot and red. “Sammy, I--come on, just put them on so we can go.” 

“You know, I think I will.” Sam stands up, takes a few stalking steps right into Dean’s space. Close enough to feel Dean's panicked breaths against his lips and cheek, close enough to force Dean’s eyes up to meet his. Close enough that there’s no doubt what either of them are feeling, for Sam’s knuckles to graze the hard line of Dean’s cock as he unties the drawstring on his sweats. “But only if you do too.”

“I--what-- _Sam_ \--” Pleading, begging--Sam can’t tell if Dean wants him to stop pushing or push them both right over the edge, just knows that unless Dean says the words he’s not going to stop. Not when they’re finally this close.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Dean?” Sam asks, voice as silky soft as the panties still clenched in his fist. He leans forward, lets his lips and the tip of his nose trace the lines of Dean’s jaw and cheek, whispers against his ear as he breathes Dean in. “What you imagined?” 

“Yes.” Scant whisper, so faint Sam almost doubts what he heard. “ _Yes_.”

“Then put them on.” 

Dean sways into Sam when he steps back, soft sound of protest that almost does Sam in as he fumbles with his belt, his jeans. Sam can’t tear his eyes away from the trail of peach fuzz disappearing into Dean’s boxers as he hesitates, goes to his knees when Dean finally kicks them away. 

“Let me,” he says, and barely recognizes his own voice. Dean just nods, dazed and gut punched, desire layered over them both so heavy and thick Sam can already taste it on the back of his tongue, salt and musk and _Dean_. Sam slides his hands inside the elastic circles, spreading them wide as he holds them out, nearly loses control when Dean’s hand rests delicately on his shoulder as he slips one foot and then the other through the holes. He’s already so hard, aching with the need to touch, to taste, to rub his cheek against the cut of Dean’s hip and breathe him in. He satisfies himself with Dean’s gasping moan, wrenched out of him by the smooth stroke of Sam’s thumbs on the soft skin of his calves, his knees, his inner thighs. Dean’s grip on Sam’s shoulder is bruise tight now, as desperate as Sam feels, half-crazed with the torment of waiting. Sam stops just underneath Dean’s balls, his palms just grazing the light hair on Dean’s thighs, his thumbs stroking lightly over the tender skin where Dean's legs meet his body. They’re both shaking now--another inch, maybe two, and this isn’t a game anymore, isn’t a prank, isn’t anywhere either of them have ever gone except in their imaginations. Sam looks up, past Dean’s dick, wet and hard and red and so fucking close that Sam’s mouth waters. A drop of precome lands on his lower lip and his tongue darts out before he can stop himself, already too far gone for anything like self control. 

“Sam--fuck-- _please_ \--” Dean sounds wrecked, voice hoarse and rough like he’s already been begging for hours, his hips twitching forward just the tiniest bit to leave behind a hot trail like a brand across Sam’s cheek. 

That’s all the confirmation Sam needs, fingers sliding up that last inch and Jesus _fuck_. Those are Dean’s balls, hot and firm and soft as Sam’s thumbs sweep over them, that’s Dean’s ass his fingers are digging into as he stretches the silky material up and over, that’s Dean’s _cock_ that Sam’s wrapping in satin like a beautiful present. He gives into temptation, rubs his cheek over the silky material with a soft, shuddery moan, fingers tightening on Dean’s ass as he opens his mouth over the base of Dean’s dick to soak the already damp fabric. He can feel Dean clutching at his hair, sizzling bolts of pleasure and pain sparking crazily along his spine as Dean ruts against his face, his mouth, and God, Sam wants it _all_. He rises up onto his knees, arms wrapped tight around Dean’s hips as he buries his face against Dean’s body. He can hear Dean above him, ragged, sobbing breaths that break on Sam’s name, feel the way Dean curls over him when Sam finally reaches the head of his dick and takes him in. The taste is indescribable, addicting, and Sam moans again, already wanting more. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, lost to the feel of Dean in his arms, in his mouth, against his skin, just knows that it’s exactly what he wants. He suckles the head of Dean’s cock, tongue pressed tight against that bundle of nerves he knows feels amazing. Forces himself down until he can feel the rough lace of the panties wet against his lips, the hot weight of Dean’s cock filling his mouth perfectly-- 

“Sam--Sam, stop--God, I’m gonna--” Dean pulls him back but doesn’t let go of his hair, eyes wild and hot. 

“Do it, Dean, fuck--mess them up for me, please--” Sam doesn’t even know what he’s babbling, he just _wants_ , wants to feel Dean come against his skin, white on blue satin and honey touched skin, wants Dean to mark him and never let him go. Dean comes with Sam’s name on his lips, and the first hot streak lands on Sam’s upturned face like a brand, changing him--changing _them_ forever. It’s too much and exactly enough, pleasure bursting through him like a silent explosion, Dean sinking to his knees to kiss the taste of himself from Sam’s lips.

Sam leans against Dean, quietly reveling in the feel of his big brother’s arms around him. Dean presses a gentle kiss to his temple. 

“You alright, Sammy?” he asks quietly. “I know this is--” He waves vaguely, and Sam knows an imminent freakout in the making when he hears one. 

“Better than alright,” he says fervently, and as hoped that gets a huff of laughter out of Dean. “Seriously, you have no idea how long--”

“I feel like I corrupted you,” Dean confesses, and no way is Sam going to let that stand. 

“This _life_ corrupted me if anything did,” he says fiercely, pulling back to look Dean in the eyes. “You’re the best thing I’ve got going for me, and I l--”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss, but his eyes are shining when he pulls back. “Me too,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “We better get cleaned up and get out of here,” he says with a sigh. “We’re already gonna be late.”

“Are you serious right now.” Sam can’t believe what he’s hearing, that Dean still wants to go on a _hunt_ after what they just--

“If we show we can do this, Dad will leave us alone more often,” Dean says reasonably, and taps his temple with a grin. “And the sooner we get this done and over with, the sooner we can come back here so you can fuck me through that mattress.” 

Sam’s dick doesn’t so much twitch as full body convulse at the thought of being inside Dean. He swallows hard, already aching for this to be over, to get back here with Dean and no one else. “In that case, I’ll race you to the shower.”


End file.
